


The Day Seems Clearer

by TheLostWeasley



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Clint is a little mad, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Married Couple, Mentions of Suicide Attempt, Sort of Domestic Violence?, everyone is ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 08:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostWeasley/pseuds/TheLostWeasley
Summary: Clint and Phil have been married for five years, but over the past few years, their relationship hasn't felt like a marriage. Clint is sick of it, so he does something about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "When You're Home." You don't have to read it to understand this, but it's kind of awesome, so I highly recommend. 
> 
> Title is from "When You're Home" by Lin-Manuel Miranda. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Clint dropped from the vents in the ceiling, his boots making a heavy thump on the meeting table. He heard a yelp come from somewhere next to him, but his focus was the man at the head of the table. Three times in the past five years, since they've been married, Shield has contacted Clint to tell him his husband was dead. Phil looked like he was doing fairly well for a dead man, standing at the head of the table with his back pin straight and a stick up his ass.

“You know, I'm really fucking tired of people telling me you're dead,” Clint spat out, his bow aimed at Phil.

It wasn't Phil’s fault people kept giving Clint the wrong information. Clint wasn't mad at Phil for that. He was pissed because how much he still cared for Phil, after everything he put Clint through in the past two years.

Phil was never home. Most nights he slept in his office or somewhere in Shield headquarters, never in their bed. Clint had tried to get Phil to come home in the beginning, but after endless refusals, and “Clint, I need to finish this paperwork and start planning another mission, go home. I'll see you this weekend,” he gave up. Phil never even looked up from his desk when he turned Clint away. If he did, Clint didn't see Phil, his husband. He saw Agent Coulson, Shield agent. That hurt the most. Phil was always Phil when they were together. Phil, the confident, nerdy, dork he married. The man he loved, who was warm and home. Now he was cold, unrecognisable, and undoubtedly an agent.

Clint didn't know when it happened, it started slowly. Phil would miss dinner a few times a week and accidentally fall asleep in his office, never to the extent of pushing Clint away. Clint assumed Nick was just giving Phil more work and responsibility, which was correct, but even Nick would tell Phil to go home every night. Clint felt Phil forgot he was married, had someone waiting for him at home, had more to his life than just work. He was sick of it. Their relationship survived the lies they told each other when they first met and the take down of Hydra. He was done with Phil brushing him off, with Phil rejecting him when he tried again to get him to come home, and everything that had to do with Shield because it was consuming Phil. If his husband was going to die, it wasn't going to be a Shield mission that killed him. Clint wanted him to die of natural causes when he was in his nineties, not a horrific accident involving the aliens a god brought to Earth because he had daddy issues.

Phil's expression remained void of any emotions, “Mr. Barton, we've been over this before. _Stay out of the vents_.”

“Kindly go fuck yourself, Agent Coulson.” He put as much contempt as he could muster into Phil’s status.

“I am unaware as to who told you I was dead, but I will get to the bottom of it. We will discuss why you are so upset with me at a later time.” His clinical approach to the situation made Clint even more upset.

“I would rather talk about it now.”

“As you can see, Mr. Barton, I'm currently in a meeting.”

“Clearly, you can see that I don't give a shit.”

Phil’s hands went to his hips, “I will call security, Barton.”

Oh, now he was _Barton_. Clint smirked, shooting an arrow through Phil's suit jacket and then another to pin him to the wall. He faintly heard someone stand, probably aiming their weapon at him. He didn't care. Natasha and Nick wouldn't let them shoot Clint. They knew Clint and Phil had been having issues. The only one who didn't seem to know was Phil.

Clint stalked off the table, not bothering or caring to notice if he was walking over paperwork or debriefs. Tossing his bow to the side, he got close enough to Phil to feel his hot breath on his face.

“ _Barton_? Is that how it is? Tell me, Phil, do you remember the last time you came home? The last time you had dinner with me? The last time you slept in our bed?” He gripped Phil's jacket, the hurt pouring out of him, “Do you know how long isn't been since you touched me? Kissed me? How about the last time you fucked me? Told me you loved me?” He still got no reaction out of Phil. He shoved Phil more into the wall,”Do you know how long it's been since you've actually  _looked_ at me?! Drop the fucking agent act, and look at me, Phil!”

Nothing. He saw nothing in Phil's pale eyes. There wasn't a twitch in his expression.

Clint let him go, stepping back and digging around his jeans pocket. He took out Phil's ring and tossed it at him, “Let me know when you decide you want a marriage again.”

Bucky came running in, breathing heavy, “Sorry, I tried telling him this was a bad idea, but he wouldn't- _Stevie_?”

There was a pause.

“Buck?”

Clint strolled by Bucky, leaving the confused Avengers to the rest of their meeting.

He felt hollowed out. The one person he trusted and loved, his best friend, didn't seem to want him any more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Phil gets his head out of his ass.

Phil yanked the arrows out of the wall and his suit jacket. Everyone was staring at him, expecting him to clear their confusion. He cleared his throat, not trusting his voice, “You're all dismissed. We'll finish this meeting next week. Enjoy your weekend.”

He picked his wedding ring up from the floor, quickly hurrying out of the room. He needed to go home, but he had to get his briefcase and wallet from his office. He took the stairs, not wanting to run into anyone on the elevator. He didn't want to talk to anyone who wasn't Clint. He had to fix his marriage. How could he let their relationship come to this? How could he do this to Clint? Clint had only loved him, trying to make sure he was taking care of himself, which Phil wasn't doing well.

Once he was inside his office, he loosened his tie, undoing a few of the buttons on his shirt, and slipping his ring on his finger, flexing his fingers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn it, the weight of it comfortable and familiar. 

“Are we going to keep staring at him until he realises we’re here?” He heard Tony say, not so quietly. Phil looked up, cursing himself silently. He should have expected them to be in his office.

“I assume none of you will be leaving until I explain what that was?” 

“You assume correctly,” Steve said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“So, Agent, who was the angry lunatic?” Tony asked. 

Bucky gave him “murder eyes,” as Clint liked to call the look he was giving Tony. 

“He's not a lunatic,” Phil told all of them. 

“The man did shoot at you, Philip,” Thor kindly pointed out. 

Bruce spoke up next, “He seemed like an angry ex.” 

Then they all started talking amongst themselves, all of their voices cutting through Phil. He was getting a headache and couldn't stand them right now. He needed to fix his marriage. He didn't have time for this. 

“Shut up, all of you!” He yelled at them. He took a deep breath, “That man is my husband. His name is Clint, I'm fucking up our marriage, and I would prefer not to get a divorce. Could you all please just leave my office, so I can grab my shit and go home?” 

They all nodded. Tony left first, followed by Bruce and Thor, who wished him luck. Steve and Bucky lingered. Fuck, he was going to have to explain to them why they weren't told about the other. 

“I know I need to explain what is going on, but I need to talk to Clint. Bucky, take Steve to my family's cabin in upstate New York. I'll be there tomorrow night, hoping I haven't completely ruined my marriage.” 

Bucky nodded, “I will, and you haven't fucked up royally. He wants to fix your marriage too. He isn't at home though. He's at your parents’ house. He's been staying there for a while. He only came back today to get more clothes, and thought it would be a great idea to barge into Shield HQ to yell at you. I'm glad you got your head out of your ass. Nat should be in the basement with a quinjet ready to go.” 

“Thank you, Bucky.” He only grabbed his wallet. He didn't need to bring his briefcase to his parents’ house. He didn't even need to bring it home, and he never would again. 

He thought about leaving Shield, moving to the country, where they could have a large house to raise as many kids as they wanted. A place where they would be safe, where their friends could be safe if they needed solitude. 

Phil didn't remember his quick journey to the quinjet, but he remember Nat’s narrowed eyes and the smack to the head she gave him. 

He rubbed the side of his head, “I guess I deserved that.” She was definitely holding back, but it still stung. 

She shrugged, “You did. Now, get your ass on the jet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each comment and kudos supplies lube for Clint and Phil (spoilers for the next chapter).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They talk a bit and then some much needed smut.

Clint was angry with Phil, yes, but he didn't want his marriage to end in divorce. That was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't going to threaten to divorce Phil either. It wouldn't be fair, and it wouldn't have changed anything. Phil left him no choice but to make a trip to Shield headquarters to talk to him. He just wanted to talk to Phil. With his bow and arrow. Maybe he did technically threaten Phil… He wasn't going to shoot him! Well, not put an arrow through his body. Just his suit, which was different!

He wanted to get Phil's attention.

Bucky had been staying with Clint and Phil, ever since he took some time to himself, exploring the world without Hydra’s control over him, or having to look over his shoulder at every second, waiting for  _anyone_ to catch up with him. He was enjoying his freedom.

Bucky let Clint know he was coming back over a year ago, around the time Phil became engrossed with Shield. Bucky had known something was off with Clint over the phone, so that was the first place he went when he got back to the States.

What he found was someone who was just going through the motions, someone who looked defeated. When he first got there, he didn't understand how Clint could look so lonely and empty. Then he realised Phil wasn't there. It took him a few days, since he figured Phil was just away on a mission. Bucky knew Phil wouldn't be gone more than a day or two. By day three, Bucky asked Clint about it. Clint had only hugged him, clinging to him as he shook, explaining how Phil wouldn't come home and he didn't know why.

Bucky told Clint he wanted to kill his husband, but was going to stay out of it because it wasn't his relationship to fix. Eventually, he told Bucky he couldn't stay in the house without Phil, so he went to Phil's parents’ house, taking their dog, Lucky, with him.

Clint came back to the house to grab more of his things, but got angry that Phil hadn't even noticed he wasn't there. He grabbed his bow and arrows, making his way to Shield. Bucky tried to stop him, but he was too quick, especially when he escaped into the vents.

When Clint got back to Phil's parents’, Lucky greeted him, wagging his tail and licking his palm. Lucky yelped, trotting to the kitchen, and looking back to see if Clint was following, which he was, but he paused when he saw who Lucky ran up to.

His tie was gone, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His expression was soft, relaxed, his eyes and slightly trembling hands showed he was on edge.

Phil.

“My own dog betrayed me,” Clint said dramatically.

“Our dog.” Phil corrected.

Clint shrugged, looking at his feet and twisting his wedding ring around his finger, “I am the one who found him eating pizza out of the garbage when he was a puppy and brought him home.”

He found Lucky a few months after they got married. He didn't even have to ask or explain to Phil why there was a dog in their home. He asked where he found him, if he had taken him to the vet, and given him a name. Clint said no to the last one. Phil named their dog, Lucky, for many reasons. He woke them up when he heard fighting next door, which helped stop a married couple from beating each other to death, and grabbing Clint's pant leg between his teeth so he wouldn't be hit by a car, when he didn't have his hearing aids in. He saved Clint more than once, especially when he wasn't wearing his aids. His fur was golden and he liked Lucky Charms.

“Can we not fight over who Lucky belongs to? To me, he's ours. I miss him. I miss _you_ ," Phil said sincerely.

“If you miss us, it's your own fault.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry, Clint. I really don't have a good excuse. I let myself become obsessed with everything Shield. I was a jerk and a shitty husband. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry I ignored you. You don't deserve to be treated-,”

Clint interrupted him, “Please, stop. I can't fucking listen to you berate yourself.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Not for one second, did I stop loving you. I just-,” Phil sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, “I don't know how to fix this.”

“C’mere,” Clint said softly, uncrossing his arms from his chest, opening up his posture, and hopping up to sit on the counter.

Phil continued to stand against the kitchen island, too far away from Clint.

“Come here, Phil,” he said a bit more forcefully. Phil listened, a curious look on his face, waiting for Clint to say more.

“Show me you still love me.” Clint told him, hooking his fingers into Phil's belt loops to pull him in so their bodies were pressed together.

Phil only looked him in the eye. His pale green-blue eyes sad, loving, and so hopeful. He placed a warm, semi-rough hand on Clint's cheek, and his arm went around Clint's waist, bringing them even closer together. Phil's eyes got watery.

“When was the last time I held you?”

Clint shook his head, “You don't want to know.”

  
Phil looked at him for a second longer. Then he brought his lips to Clint's, brushing them together in a gentle sweep. Clint felt a sweet, familiar tingling shoot up his back.

Phil pulled away, resting his forehead against Clint's, "When  _was_ the last time I kissed you?” Phil kissed him again, adding more pressure and the wetness of his tongue to the bottom of Clint's lip. They kissed once and Clint was already clinging to Phil. His hand was in Phil's thin hair and the other was holding onto Phil's shoulder, his thighs pressing into Phil's hips to keep him in place.

“Jesus,” Phil practically moaned, “You feel so good in my arms, against my lips and my skin.”

“Shut up, and keep kissing me, please. Never stop kissing me or touching me, _please_ , Phil, not again.” Clint pulled Phil in, crushing their mouths together, and slipping his tongue into Phil’s hot, wet mouth.

They clung to each other, kissing as if they needed it to survive, like the way they needed air. Gasping and panting into each others mouths because they didn't, couldn't let up. Phil had pulled Clint to the edge of the counter, his legs circling Phil's waist tightly. Phil's hands were gripping Clint's hair and his hips grinding his clothed cock against Clint's.

Clint gasped, breaking the kiss, and letting out a strangled groan, “Fuck me, fuck me, _now_.”

Phil nodded, stepping away from Clint, “Take your clothes off.”

Clint did so while Phil started searching through the cabinets.

“What are you doing? Going to bake cookies?”

Phil huffed out a laugh, “No, I'm looking for-, ah-ha!” He tossed Clint a bottle of something.

Clint snorted out a breathy laugh, “Light extra virgin olive oil?”

“We're doing this here. I'm not going to make it upstairs and I don't think you are either.” Phil tossed a few towels onto the kitchen floor, undoing his shirt and pants. He laid on the floor, beckoning for Clint to straddle his hips.

Clint ran his hands up and down Phil's chest, remembering the feel of Phil's skin beneath his fingertips.

Then he felt Phil's fingers at his entrance and he pushed back on them, letting out a moan and rocking his hips. He watched Phil's eyes dilate even more, his fingers working quickly and skillfully to open Clint up as best he could.

Clint was a panting mess on top of Phil, “Please, I'm ready.” Phil, the asshole, gave a few more pumps and stretches of his fingers before gently taking them out and replacing them with his cock. Clint appreciated Phil taking his time, but he was going too slow. Clint needed Phil inside of him _yesterday_. He slammed down the rest of the way, arching his back and raising his hips up and then back down, “ _Phil_.”

Phil brought his hands to Clint's shoulders, thrusting his hips up and pulling him back down. Clint bent himself forward to kiss his husband. He just wanted to keep kissing him, moaning and gasping into his mouth, while he thrust into Clint hard and slow. Clint touched Phil everywhere he could reach, lingering on everything, from Phil's hair to his hips. Phil did the same, making sure not to miss an inch of Clint's muscled flesh. When they went home, they would have to spend a day in bed, when they weren't as desperate for each others touch.  
Phil's thrusts got hard, a little rougher, and it was too good to stop or slow down, the tingling in Clint's back suddenly shot through every part of his body. His vision whiting out as he came all over Phil's chest, Phil following right after.

They panted against each other, Clint laying on top of Phil with his arms around him.

“This doesn't automatically fix anything, but I missed you so much, Phil,” he spoke quietly. Phil only ran a hand through his hair and tightened his arm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every comment and kudos gives these two money for a therapist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where that Stucky tag comes in!

They were on their way to the cabin, using the quinjet as transportation. Phil said there was something else had to fix. He needed to explain why he never told Bucky that Steve had been found, that he was alive and breathing. He had to tell Steve why he never told him Bucky was alive. Phil said Nick told him to keep it to himself; he was following orders. Orders he should have ignored sooner.

“Why aren't you following them now?” Clint asked, sitting down in the co-pilot’s position.

“I knew it wasn't right, not telling them. They loved each other, they probably still do. I'm not going to let Shield get in the way of another relationship, not when I can do something about it.”

“We're not-,” Clint started to say, but was cut off by Phil's cellphone ringing.

‘Nothing new there.’ Clint thought to himself.

“Coulson,” Phil answered, putting the quinjet on autopilot.

“Fuck protocol, Nick. They have the right to know what happened to each other.” There was another pause, “I'm taking a leave of absence.” Phil glanced at Clint, “Three months. You can come visit as my friend. I'll try to bring back the jet, but no guarantees.” He hung up the phone.

Clint must of had a funny look on his face because Phil raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“You're taking three months off?”

Phil shrugged, “I want to reconnect with you, in every way I can. I know things weren't automatically fixed yesterday, but I feel like we paved the way for healing our marriage. I'm not going to interrupt it. If I takes more than three months, fine. I'll take more time off. I'm going to take all the time it takes, Clint.”

Clint let out a breath, “I love you, Phil.” The words felt relieving, rolling off his tongue with ease. Phil really meant it. They were going to fix this.

Phil's eyes crinkled in the corners, his lips twitching up, “I love you too.”

“Do we have time to reconnect with our bodies again?” Clint asked, probably too hopeful.

Phil looked surprised, “Right now? Here?”

Clint stood, and then slid into Phil's lap, draping his arms around his neck, his fingers toying with the hair at Phil's nape, “Ten months.”

Phil opened his mouth to say something, but Clint hushed him, “I didn't tell you that to hurt you. I only said it to make a point of how damn horny I am.”

Keeping the jet on autopilot, Phil brought Clint down for a kiss.

***

Bucky couldn't believe it.

Steve, his Stevie, was in the same room as him. They kept staring at each other, brushing their fingers against each others skin just to make sure it was real. Bucky was waiting to wake up, waiting for Steve to disappear, waiting for everything to disappear. Every morning, he expected to wake up in Hydra's unwelcoming embrace. There was always some part of him that thought he was dreaming, that he was really still in a cryo chamber, but there was no way his mind would come up with Clint, Nat, Phil, or Steve feeling so _real_.

He knew the story. He knew Steve crashed the plane into the Arctic, how Steve sacrificed himself to save New York and take down Hydra to save the world. That's what Phil told him. That's what the history books told Phil.

“Why didn't you try to save yourself?” Bucky had asked Steve last night when they got to the cabin. “You could have had a good life with Peggy.”

Steve shrugged, “I did love her, but she wasn't who I really wanted.”

“There was someone else? Oh, the press is going to have a field day. America’s golden boy has a dirty secret,” Bucky teased.

Steve dropped his gaze, deciding his hands would be better to look at, “Considering the someone else is my male best friend, then yes, I guess I do have a “dirty” secret.”

Bucky felt his jaw drop because, “You-, I- what?”

“It's always been you and I always wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. I thought you would hate me, and I knew we couldn't really be together. It's not OK for us to be together, not in the way a man and woman can be. We can't get married or have children. So, I tried to get over it. I went out on those double dates with you, hoping I could get over it, but I couldn't and I couldn't tell you.” Steve let in a shaky breath, “Then you fell and I wished I had, god, I wished I had. If I had known-, I would have told you. Maybe you would have kissed me or hit me, yelled at me. I wouldn't have cared. You were there, you were right in front of me, and then you were just gone. I'm not sure if I could have gotten out of that plane before it went down, but I didn't want to. Not without you. I didn't want to settle with Peggy because she didn't deserve that. I couldn't love her the way everyone thought because you already took the position.”

“You fucking did _what_?” Bucky asked sternly, a coolness that wasn't in his teasing voice before. “You thought killing yourself was a good move, just because I was dead? What the hell were you thinking Steve?”

“What was I supposed to do? Escape, marry Peggy, have a couple of kids, and what? Be America’s weapon whenever they needed me? Pretend to be happy? It felt a piece of me died when you fell. It felt like I was being ripped apart, Buck. I couldn't take the thought of living without you. It hurt so much. I know it was selfish, but I thought I would see you again.”

Bucky was silent for too long. Steve was shifting in his seat, but holy fucking shit, Steve loved him. He killed two birds with one stone, saved the world from Hydra and made it so he didn't have to deal with pain and regret. Bucky would have done the same thing. He couldn't stop thinking about Steve. He thought about him every day.

Bucky had time to accept what had happened to him and what he couldn't go back in time to fix. He had time to heal. Steve had been out of the ice for only a few months.

He stood and made his way over to Steve, sitting in Steve's personal bubble and he didn't seem to mind.

“Oh, Stevie.” Bucky kissed his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth, over and over, holding his face with his right arm. “I would have kissed you, if you're wondering.”

Steve pulled his head back to look Bucky in the eyes, “Can I kiss you now?”

Bucky nodded, “I'd be a little offended if you didn't.”

“You're a fucking jerk,” Steve said fondly before securing his lips over Bucky's.

“I love you too, you punk,” Bucky said against Steve's soft lips.

They kissed until their lips were raw, until the day caught up with them and decided to go to bed. Bucky made a comment about them being old, which made Steve laugh and Bucky smiled at his reaction. Steve started to suggest that he would sleep on the couch, but Bucky told him to shut up and dragged him to the bedroom.

Bucky woke up to his limbs entangled with Steve's. He smiled to himself, they couldn't be more wrapped around each other.

Around two in the afternoon, Clint and Phil showed up, looking like they had just had sex. Clint's hair was everywhere, one of the buttons on Phil's shirt was missed, and their skin was flushed. They totally did it on the quinjet! He would have to talk to Steve about trying that.

Phil immediately got down to business. He apologised and apologised for not telling them, explaining that Fury ordered him not to say anything because “they could lose Steve as an Avenger.” That's what Phil was told anyway. This was another reason why Bucky wanted no part of Shield or every other government agency. He was sick of the bullshit and lies. He wished he could stay in the cabin with Steve forever.

Phil's explanation didn't take as long as he thought, so Bucky changed the topic to Phil and Clint.

Bucky smirked, “So, how was the trip here?”

“I have no idea why you would think that something special happened on the way over here,” Clint feigned innocence.

“You missed a button, Phil.” Bucky said, his smirk growing as Phil looked at his shirt.

“We are two consenting adults, who are married. We can have sex wherever the fuck we want, so shove it up your ass, Barnes,” Clint defended. Bucky laughed, about to comment, but Steve beat him to it.

“Wait, you two are actually married?” Steve looked at him, seeming lost. “They let them get married?”

Phil spoke up, “Steve, did nobody tell you?”

Steve shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing, “No.”

“It's OK now.” Clint explained simply. “It's still messy and some people are flaming douchebags, who can't mind their own fucking business, but nobody is getting a court martial or getting arrested anymore. You can marry whoever you want.” He took Phil's hand in his.

“Seriously?” Steve asked Bucky.

“It's true, Stevie.”

“It's about fucking time! I'm going to marry the hell out of you, Buck.”

Bucky, well, he wasn't opposed to that at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where this ends. It was a get journey with these guys :-)

**Author's Note:**

> For every comment and kudos, Clint gets a hug.


End file.
